Running Away To Neverland
by laurenthemagnificent
Summary: After lashing out on her step cousin at her step-mothers annual ball, Jette is sent to London to stay with her great-grandmother Wendy for the summer. Not long after she arrives she discovers that the stories shes heard might not just be stories after all
1. Prologue: Oddball

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunatley, I do not own anything related to peter pan in this story, _EXCEPT!!_ the characters i made up. so if you ever wanna use them, just ask.

**A/N: **Alrighty so this is my first story. i don't know how soon i'll be updating, but hopefully it will be soon so please review and all that other great stuff!

Ok well here it is! i Hope you enjoy!

bafley

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**Prologue: Oddball**

"Jette Riley Wendy-Anne Darling! Get your arse out of that room this instant or I will knock down this door and _drag_ you out by your hair!" my step-mother screamed from the other side of my locked door.

"I'd like to see you try." I snorted under my breath. I really hated that woman. The pounding on my door continued.

"Jette Riley, did u hear what I said?! I said I was-"

"_YES!_ I heard what you said Martha!" I interrupted loudly. "My god woman! Go to the doctor and get some patience! I'll be out in a minute!" I heard her whiney little huff then her heeled feet going down the stairs to the ballroom. I turned back to my mirror on the vanity and stared at my reflection, trying to escape back into the wonderful daydream I was having, but only finding myself staring back.

I was the oddball of my family, no doubt. With two older sisters and two older brothers that had shades of blonde, wavy hair, I had brown, straight hair. All my siblings were star athletes. I was a star klutz. They could run down a court or field with elegance and grace while I tripped and stumbled and ran into my teammates. I wasn't that bad actually, except for that small, little detail.

Another thing that made me an oddball was well, me. My brothers and sisters were all planned. My father wanted two boys and two girls. First up was Wendy. Next came John and Michael, the twins that didn't look alike. Then it was Jane. They were all named after my fathers relatives. They never expected to have a fifth child, which was me, Jette Riley Wendy-Anne Darling. I was the surprise child. My mother came up with the first two names, my father with the third. I'm not quite sure though, how Wendy and Anne got tied together.

Before my mother died she had told me I had inherited me great-aunt's imagination. It was most likely true since none of my siblings were ever caught daydreaming in school. I was busted for it at least three times a week. Everyone also said I looked just like her, except my straight hair. They said it was almost creepy how much I looked like her.

I didn't mind being the oddball much though. I was quite refreshing to know that I wasn't just like everyone else in my family and had a little bit of individuality. It was what made me, me.

I continued to stare at my reflection until I jumped at the sound of the clock striking 9. "Damn. I better hurry if I don't want that _woman_ to come back up here." I said myself as I started to busy myself into getting ready for the ball. Oh, how I really was going to hate this ball.


	2. Pink, Poofy Dress & Black Converse

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunatley, I do not own anything related to peter pan in this story, _EXCEPT!!_ the characters i made up. so if you ever wanna use them, just ask.

**A/N: **Yay for the first(?) chapter!! and also thank you Naomi Friesen for reviewing my story so far. Alrighty well here it is, the first(?) chapter in this story.

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**Chapter 1: Pink, Poofy Dress and Black Converse**

The Hingely Family Ball. The stupidest thing to be held in a ballroom since the first national dog show (**a/n:** I'm not really sure if they were or not. just something I made up."D).

My step-mothers family threw it every year for her beloved nephew Edgar ever since he was born and for some strange reason, everyone had to dress up in old time dresses and tuxes, like the kind of dress a very important person in the early 1900's would wear. So for the whole evening, all one would see were bright, puffy dresses and black tailored suits.

I stood up from the vanity and turned around to face the full-length mirror. I made a face of disgust for what i saw.

I was wearing a cotton candy pink dress. "Ugh, it even looks like cotton candy!" I said aloud. The sleeves were puffed and the skirt was a horrible puffed ruffles. Everything was pink; my least favorite color. I was completely outraged the day we bought it.

_"Young ladies should always where pink for balls." the old, croaky voice of the shopkeeper snapped at me with her nose in the air. Martha nodded in agreement._

_"But I _hate_ pink." I repeated flatly. The shopkeeper and Martha looked at each other and snorted disgustedly and giggled a little. _

_"Nonsense. Every girl loves pink." Martha said as she came over and played with the ruffles of my skirt, maybe trying to make them look better in the mirror for me. _

_"Well..." I started sarcastically, "If look at it in a certain light and turn a certain way..." I started moving around on the raised floor, trying to seem like I was going to like it. The look on both their faces was great. They were actually buying it. "Yea, nope. Not gonna wear it. It's simply out of the question. I don't do pink."_

_Their faces dropped like a rock and Martha's was replaced with an irritated one. "We'll take it." she said hardly._

_"Bu-"_

_"_AND_ she will wear it without complaining!" she glared back at me._

_"TO HELL I WON'T!" I yelled back angrily. Everyone's attention drew to us. Score 1-0; Martha hated unwanted attention. _

_"We will finish this at home." she whispered harshly. _

Unfortunately, she did buy the dress and I had to wear it but the one thing she didn't think anything about was my shoes. I think she had forgotten all about them, being so caught up in my dress drama.

I pulled my dress up enough just to see my brand new black knee-high converse that i had just bought that afternoon. She would be furious when she saw them, making the score an incredible 2-1.

I heard panting outside my door. My faithful St. Bernard, Nana IV. It was a Darling family tradition to have a St. Bernard named Nana.

Next came the pawing at my door. "Alright. Alright." I said calmly. "I'm coming out."

I opened my door and stepped out onto to the landing. "So what do you think, Nana? Is it me?" I asked sarcastically, swishing my dress from side to side. She groaned and put her paw over her eyes. I giggled. "Yea, that's what I thought too, but at least I got these." I showed her my converse and she barked happily. Nana was always on my side.

We went downstairs and walked slowly towards the ballroom together.

I could already hear the music and everyone chatting and laughing together; I was already dreading it. I managed to walk through the double doors, find my comfy armchair and plop down into it, my legs hanging over one armrest, my back against the other and my puffy dress all up in my face, without anyone even noticing me.

Nana curled up in front of me as I put in my headphones to drown out the banal music coming from the other side of the room. I looked at the clock. _9:30. Great. Only two and a half more hours till this dumb thing is over._ I said silently to myself. I closed my eyes and made my feet go to the beat of my music. _Hey, maybe if I'm lucky, Edgar and/or Martha won't notice me._

How wrong I was.


	3. Edgar, The Party Crasher

**Disclaimer: I dont own peter pan, shiny toy guns, or ipods. ok? gee.**

**Ok so i'm really sorry it takes me so long to update. school sux butt. but anyway, here is chapter two so i hope you enjoy and i'll try to have hav chapter 3 up asap.**

**btw, i am working on a oneshot currently so look out for that also! )**

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**Chapter 2: Edgar the Party Crasher**

I sat there in my chair, silently bobbing to my music and mouthing some of the words. Listening to my music always calmed me down and helped me get through long days…or events. I was currently listening to Shiny Toy Guns "Le Disko" when I felt to hands behind me, grab my shoulders. For a second I thought they were my brother Johns' but I realized they were cold and much too small to be Johns' hands. _Edgar. _I clenched my teeth and turned my head enough just to see his smug little face.

Edgar wasn't a pleasant looking boy in the least bit. His features made him look like a boy of 10 when really he was only a month younger than me. He had red curly hair that surrounded his fat, round, baby face and had no freckles, what so ever, and his black beady eyes always looked incredulously eerie. He had two big front teeth with a small gap in between them and his ears were never to be seen because of his thick curls. He was short but very thin. Because of this, he always looked out-of-proportion and that had earned him the nickname of Chucklehead.

He still hadn't taken his cold hands off my shoulders by time my song had ended which made my already bad mood, a little bit worse, and me a little bit chillier.

"Edgar." I said semi-calmly. "Airplane." He smirked, his grip getting tighter. Err! He was starting to push my buttons!

"Why are you holding my shoulders?" I asked trying to stay calm. Unfortunately, my name had earned me the nickname Airplane, and Edgar had used it ever since he found out about it.

"You're not enjoying my ball! So I'm going to hold your shoulders with my cold hands until you do." He said matter-of-factly.

"Ok, listen, Chucklehead," I said as I got up out of the chair to unlock his grip from my shoulders. I was tired of his dumb and stupid ways to get me enjoy something I shouldn't even have to be at. "The only way _I_ would **EVER** enjoy this "ball" thing of yours, is if I was upstairs in my room, blasting my music so loud that it would drown out all this crap down here!" A few people looked over then went back to there own business after a few seconds.

Edgar's face winced at what I had just said. He looked stunned for a second then, there was a evil little glare and before I knew it, my Ipod was yanked out of my grasp. He should have known that no one **ever** takes away my music. Even John and Michael didn't even dare snatch it away from me, like Edgar just did.

Before he had time to think, I was after him like a lion chasing its prey. "EDGAR! YOU FILTHY LITTLE BUGGER! GIVE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW, YOU CHUCKLEHEAD, OR YOU'LL WISH YOU NEVER HAD TAKEN IT!" I yelled as I chased him around the ballroom. He was laughing his pudgy little laugh and holding up my Ipod over his head occasionally but stopped when he saw I was catching up to him. _Must have thought I was wearing high heels. _I thought.

We ran all around the ballroom. Edgar ran into people every so once in a wile but I still kept up. At one point I ran into a lady, spilling the contents of her glass all over her and myself, but I didn't even give her a second look. The chase didn't last long after that. When he had turned to go around a table, his slick shoes made him stumble and I, literally, jumped at the chance. Before he had time to recover, I tackled him to the ground, knocking over a red wine glass in the process and having the contents spill all over me.

Blood proceeded out of his nose from his face hitting the floor and before I could make it any worse, I felt a two pairs of hands pull me off of him, and a shriek obviously coming from Martha as she saw the blood.

I looked up at the faces of the arms that were holding me back from ripping Edgar to shreds. John and Michael. I was a little bit frustrated that they held me back. I mean, they should know for a fact that people hated being held back when they wanted to hurt someone with every ounce of strength they had in their bodies. But my anger with them quickly subsided when Michael gave me a small grin, meaning they weren't mad.

The ballroom was quiet except for the babying come from Martha over Edgar's bloody nose and I felt people's eyes staring. There was no quiet chatter among them, no sipping of wine or bubbly, no music, no….wait, music. Where was my Ipod?

I eyes darted frantically around the place where I had tackled Edgar until finally, I saw it. Lying in the middle of a puddle of spilled wine and with a cracked screen was my Ipod. It was broken. All my music, gone. All my anger came back in one huge, swift wave.

"YOU JERK! YOU BROKE IT!" I yelled at him, holding the broken Ipod in front of his face. I somehow managed to get out of my brother's grips.

"I'm not the one who broke it! If you wouldn't have tackled me then it would still be perfectly fine." He started to mutter under his breath, "You stupid, lousy, good for nothing-"

WHAM!!

I had heard ever word he said and my fist let loose on his right eye. He squealed in pain and my brother's quickly pulled me back before I had a chance to score another shot. "YOU IDIOT!! IF YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TOOK IT IN THE FIRST PLACE, IT _OR _YOUR NOSE WOULDN'T BE BROKEN!" I yelled as my brother's drug me back away from Edgar.


	4. Finding the Escape

**Disclaimer:** ok you know how it is. i don't own peter pan. i own my own characters. bada-bing, bada-boom.

**a/n:** so very sorry it took me FOREVER to update. my peter pan creative juices have been flowing pretty slow lately. well enjoy and **PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!!!!**

**Chapter 3: Crime and Punishment **

A few good things actually came out of Edgar's and my little…spat. One, Edgar got the snot beat out of him…literally. Another was that the wine and other refreshments that had fallen on me during the chase ruined the pink, poofy dress. The most splendid one of all was that, if I was lucky, Martha would never let me attend the ball again because my behavior at this one.

However, I could not ignore the bad feeling I had in the pit of my stomach as my brothers walked me down a long hallway to my father's office. We were not even halfway down the hallway yet and I could hear Martha's screaming, crying, and cursing in the office.

"Way to go Jette. You've really made her mad this time," Michael said, stating the obvious.

I ignored him. It was always like him to say something like that; whether he meant to or not.

"But I have to say those were some bloody good shots!" John added in. I smiled. He could always say something to make everything seem better.

We had reached the door now. John knocked and immediately all sounds from inside stopped. I shuddered. No, this was not going to be good.

*****

Edgar was in there, too. He had tissues stuck up his nose and a steak pressed against his eye. _What a perfect way to spoil a perfectly good steak! _I thought angrily to myself. We both sat in front of my dad's huge red oak-wood desk. He did not look happy in the least bit.

"Now," my dad started. His suddenly loud voice startled me a little. "Martha has informed me of…ahem…_both_ of your behaviors at this ball, but mostly of yours, Jette." His eyes were terribly cold. I looked down at my feet. I heard Martha sniffle and looked up. I could tell the tears she had been crying were as faux as her "oh-so-expensive" fur coats. She knew her nephew got what he deserved. She just didn't want to admit it. I lost my temper.

"Did she also tell you that _he's _the one that started it? That _he's_ the one who grabbed who _broke, _my Ipod. Did she tell you th-" Edgar cut me off.

"Oh, big whoop! You can just by a new one. I'm sure "daddy" will pay for it." He mocked. I got up out of my chair quickly, making him scream and run behind Martha.

"That's right! Go and hide you little wimp!" I yelled.

"I'm not a wimp!" he protested.

"Oh really? Prove it."

"Fine. I will."

"Good. We'll prove it right now." I said walking towards him, cracking my knuckles. He, again, cowered behind Martha and whimpered like a lost puppy. I chuckled, proving my point. "See I told you that you were a wimp."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Stop it right now!" my father bellowed. I jumped and Edgar ducked behind Martha again. His face was red with anger but turned to Martha and said semi-calmly, "Darling, can you please leave me and Jette alone for a while?" Martha simply nodded her head and scooted Edgar out through the door. "You two, too." He said, pointing at John and Michael. There was looks of disappointment on their faces but the left quietly through the door.

The door finally clicked shut. Silence…horrible, tense silence. About a minute passed before my father finally spoke. "Jette," he started, "I'm terribly disappointed in you." It seemed like he wanted me to answer back but I kept my mouth shut. He sighed. "I don't know what to do with you anymore, Jette. Mouthing off to Martha, daydreaming during school, _tackling and punching Edgar_? What happened to you?" Again, I said nothing and he sighed. "I have no choice…" he paused. I looked up at him. "I'm sending you to live with your great-aunt in London during the summer and after the summer is over you are to attend boarding school down there as well."

"WHAT!?!" I slammed my arms down on the armrests. "YOUR SENDING ME DOWN TO LONDON TO LIVE WITH SOME 100 YEAR OLD LADY THAT I HAVE HARDLY EVEN SEEN IN THE 15 YEARS I'VE BEEN ALIVE?!"

"She's 84 actually and-"

"LIKE IT MATTERS! I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO LONDON! I WANT TO STAY UP HERE, IN YORK, WHERE I HAVE FRIENDS AND ACTUALLY KNOW PEOPLE!!!" I shouted angrily.

"You _are_ going to London and that is final! No further discussions! Now leave!" he fumed pointing to the door.

"Bu-" I protested.

"LEAVE! NOW!" He shouted.

I stomped out of the room and slammed the door as loud as I could behind me. I half ran to my room, angry tears spilling onto my cheeks as ran. I got to my room and slammed that door as well and locking to make sure no one bothered me.

I fell onto my bed, face first, and cried my heart out. After about a half an hour, I calmed down and started to think the situation over. London couldn't be too terrible. Maybe I could make the best of it for me. I hadn't done something for me in a while. Yes. London would be my escape.


End file.
